


Spoiled

by xogillete



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Other, Pegging, Polyamorous Relationships, peter getting cake and eating it too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xogillete/pseuds/xogillete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucky for them, everyone gets a piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my beta, Hera.

Gamora enjoyed control.  
  
Peter had slept with many women in his life, each one more unique than the last. Some with tentacles, others with limbs he'd never seen before, and sometimes, with twice as many lady parts. As different as they all were, they each shared a need to be satisfied, and Gamora had a desire that was unlike anything Peter had ever encountered before. He remembered a time where, after sleeping with well over a dozen women in the same week, he made a promise to himself, to "try anything at least once". Up until tonight, he thought he truly had.  
  
Believe it or not, it's his first time in a blindfold, his first time with his wrists bound, in complete submission. It's a little startling, to say the least, but as Gamora lets her hands roam his naked, vulnerable body, he begins to take an interest to the idea of restraint.  
  
He's a stuttering mess beneath her, the edges of her soft fingertips brushing against his shoulders, down his back, then ultimately disappearing when she starts whispering his name. She's mumbling other things, too. Phrases of comfort, he assumes, he's not sure. He's light headed, a little nervous and quite frankly considering the whole thing over, but it's too late, she's prodded inside him with gentle strokes. He lets out a yelp in surprise, despite bracing himself earlier with her fingers. It's not as painful since he's somewhat prepped, but it's still an odd sort of sensation. It takes a lot of unsure hip jerking him to get accustomed to the experience, and soon enough he's willingly pacing himself back and forth against her, in hopes of more friction. She laughs a bit, leaves a trail of kisses down his back before taking him by the waist and slamming into him with little mercy.  
  
He can hear the slick of lube slap against him, inside him, his own throaty pleas echo throughout the room. He's red in the face at his own sounds, but he's in too deep to care, to focus, to want anything else but to be fucked raw. He writhes in the ties, anxious. He can't get himself off, and he can't see a thing, and he's so close, so _very_ close. Gamora is well aware of all this, because her pace has slowed and her hands have left his body. She is in control here. She whispers to comfort him again, but that only gets him harder, has him aching and pleading her name to the very best of his abilities.  
  
At last she finds him worthy of release, finding his entry at a quickened pace again. She reaches below to take his dripping cock with a free hand, steadying herself with the other. She drills deep into him, as she rubs teasingly at his throbbing erection. Every thrust accompanied by a grunt of pleasure, the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. “ _Please, don't_ , _stop, fuck, oh fuck.”_ Peter props himself on his elbows and rides it out. She's hitting all the right places and has him on the edge. Ecstasy burns deep within in his stomach, getting turned on by both his own noises and the new thrill of being dominated. He wishes he could see her. He wishes she could see _him_ ; the needy, hot look on his face.  
  
It's all too much, and finally he's made a mess in the sheets under them, a few jets of come seeping through her hand. Her touch vanishes again, and suddenly he hears the suckle of fingers. He yearns to see her do so, because hearing it alone is punishment enough. He wonders if she got hers, but remembers that tonight, Gamora's pleasure is elsewhere. He collapses on to the bed, turning on his back, feeling her warm breath on his face.  
  
She takes off his blindfold and to his surprise, she's smiling. It's not proud or smug. It's almost childlike. He takes notice that she too, has stripped since the beginning, except for the harness adorned at her waist. He must look awfully pathetic, panting and slack jawed in front of her like that, but he's numb and in bliss. She lets a small chuckle leave her lips. “Thank you, Peter. It has been far too long since...I've enjoyed myself so much.”

He catches his breath and grins. “Well, I can't say I'm not a fan of your pelvic sorcery.” He admires her for a minute, before remembering his restraints. He brings up his wrists between them, a boyish look in his eyes. “Soooo, do I have to beg to get these off or..?”  
  
It's not in her plans, but Peter sparks something in her. “Try me.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Drax was a perfectionist.

Peter lay sprawled among the mattress, soaked in sweat, breathless. A hand curled over his forehead to wipe some of the dampness away. He was completely motionless from the waist down, and any sort of movement from the area would pulse and surge like lightning throughout his entire body. “Drax,” he manages, chuckling slightly, “Jesus Christ. ”

The larger man is stretching in the doorway, placing a hand on his neck as he rolls it clockwise. He has a tendency to dress himself quickly after they finish, but not by means of embarrassment or guilt, as Peter once had thought. He's just incredibly taskful, efficient. Drax pauses to look directly at the young captain when his name is heard. There's a tiny smile that tugs at his lips. “Was I as adequate as our previous night together?”  
  
“Are you _kidding_ me?” Peter finds the feeling in his legs again and kicks into the air like a frenzied child. He rolls around in the sheets until he's completely enveloped in the linens, and laughs again. “Tonight was twice as good. Any more of you and I'm gonna to need crutches to get around.”

His expression fades into a frown, confused. His eyes narrow while he ponders the Starlord's curious phrasing, then nods with a knowing grin. “Ah. You mean to tell me my sexual performance excels to the point of needing medical aid.”

“Yeah,” Peter replies flatly, rolling his eyes, “thanks.”  
  
Drax makes his way back to the bed and takes a seat next to Peter. He pats at the sheets between them and clears his throat softly. Peter takes note of it and springs up, inching sideways and closing the space among them. For a man who's more than likely bathed in the blood of his enemies, Drax looked strangely small for some reason. The blond furrows his brows in concern, shrugs out of the sheets and lays a hand on his burly shoulder.“What's up, man? Wasn't it good for you, too?”

“No, no,” he responds suddenly, shaking his head. “I thoroughly enjoyed myself, but I feel as though my skills have...become victims to oxidation.”  
  
“Victims to...you mean _rusty_?”

“Is that not what I essentially said?”  
  
“No,” Peter snorts, “those are definitely two different things. Anyway, why would you think that? I mean Drax, look at you.” He hesitates before continuing, letting the man look himself up and down. “You're 600 pounds of _pure_ badass. You've got a build that could kill an _army_. Plus, you always make the bed afterwords. Chicks dig that. More importantly, I dig that.”

He's always been proud of his size, the physique he spent years defining, and yet when Peter compliments him on it, he feels a heat rise in his cheeks. It is one thing to boast, it is another to be recognized. He stares at the floor sheepishly. _Drax the Destroyer_ , he sighed, _more like Drax the Delicate_.  
  
“It's just that I...haven't had any sort of relationship in such a long time.” He lifts his gaze, fierce eyes ablaze as he leans in close, their noses practically touching. “I value your company, Quill, but I am not aware of how much time we will share together. I will do anything to show you my appreciation.”  
  
Peter bites at his knuckles, in disbelief of how this infamous, tattooed warrior could be so darn _cute_. Drax definitely wanted more out of this than he thought. It's endearing, and little flattering, really, coming from him. Sweet moment aside, did he say he'd do _anything_? “So, even if I wanted to watch really lame Terran movies all day and made you watch them with me, you would?”  
  
Drax pauses. Peter had always been so easy please. He shrugs with a small smile. “I would.”  
  
Peter lights up in response. “What if I wanna go joyriding in the Milano and everyone's against it. Are you gonna be with me?”  
  
He nods. “I will cheer you to victory.”  
  
A gasp of joy exerts his lips, but the innocent mood is gone as quick as it arrived. A smirk falls on his face and his eyes crinkle something evil. “So... _anything,_ huh?”  
  
“Anything.”

“How 'bout I top next time?” He asks with a hopeful tone, only to remember that the term is probably, yet again, foreign to the man. “You know, let me take the lead in bed. I be the pitcher, you be the catcher. Peter gives, Drax receives.” He hopes at this point that he gets the gist of the idea.  
  
There's a moment of silence before Drax throws his head back and roars with laughter. He clutches at his sides as he comes down from it slowly, patting a now deflated Peter hard against his back. “I can provide you with devotion, Peter, not the work of miracles.”


End file.
